


To Feel Again

by simplysuz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Love, Falling In Love, Gen, LGBTQ Character, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 00:09:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21310897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysuz/pseuds/simplysuz
Summary: After a hunt gone wrong, Sam is left paralyzed. The two brothers must deal with the aftermath of Sam's injury and the new life they must live. Little does Dean know Sam is hiding a big secret, and secrets and vulnerability may just be the boy's downfall When a certain demon begins hunting down Sam.
Kudos: 3





	To Feel Again

You don't realize the effects of pain until it ceases to be felt. It was there and in an instant, gone, white stabbing pain, to absolute numbness, that's how Sam remembered it, you know before everything went dark. The boys were on one of their usual gigs, a simple salt and burn. Some vengeful spirit who had been run off the road was using empty cars to run over its victims. Dean was excited about the case as he had been obsessed with Christina as a kid, but when the spirit decided to take control of the impala, well, let's just say Dean wasn't all smiles anymore.  
The brothers were sprinting away from the possessed impala, Dean, in front of Sam. Dean skidded right to the side of the road, yelling for Sam to do the same, but before Sam could pivot, he felt the impact of Baby against his back. He didn't even have time to process what just happened before he was flung against the front of the car, falling flat on his back. His breath hitched sputtering in any sort of oxygen he could muster. He remembered Dean Screaming, He remembered the stars wavering up above, and Green eyes streaked with worry and tears kneeling over him, begging him to stay. Still, the stars were growing larger, their white orbs blinding, and Sam made his way into the night.  
  
Beeping, that's the first thing Sam heard when he reached the surface, a steady rhythmic thrum. He didn't want to open his eyes, he tried to stay in this place of comfort and bliss, but it began to fade away as reality set itself in. The pounding headache began to present itself, and he felt air tickling against his nostrils. He heard someone calling his name.  
Sammy, Come on Sam open your eyes  
And then an unfamiliar voice  
"Sam squeeze my hand is you hear us."  
Sam obliged without much thought and began blinking his eyes open. Everything was blurred, and he let out a small groan at the sudden brightness around him.  
Oh, sorry, The unfamiliar voice said with concern.   
The light dimmed, in which Sam suspected the blinds had been closed, and the blurred figures became more clear. Standing over him was a tall older man, with graying dark brown hair, and unkempt scruff, signifying the stress of the job, which Sam knew all too well. He had kind brown eyes and was wearing blue hospital scrubs. Sam guessed he was probably in his late forties. To his right was the all too familiar Dean, He also had scruff which was surprising to Sam, and he looked sleep-deprived, his eyes heavily red-rimmed and bagged.  
"Hey," he said quietly, "look who's back to the land of the living," Dean said with a small, somber smile.  
"Hey, Sam," the other man said "I'm Dr. Will Myers, you've had pretty extensive surgery, and you've been in and out of consciousness for about two days. You seem more cognizant today, and if you are up to it, I would like to discuss the results."  
Dean put a hand over his face and turned away as if he was about to lose it. That's when Sam understood something was terribly wrong. He had thought it was the medicine, the numbness the feeling as if he was floating, hovering, but as reality began to set in, he began to realize…  
"The car that hit you was going around 50 miles per hour said Doctor Myers its impact was a direct hit to your spinal cord; fortunately, we were able to stop the bleed although we had to add some rods and screws, as the speed of the car, caused broken and shattered vertebrae. I'm not going to get too scientific with you, as I understand you just want the prognosis. The doctor sighed sadly and continued. "I'm sorry to say that there is paralysis on the T10. T10 is at the level of the Umbilicus and The Navel, meaning that anything beneath the thoracic spine, there is uh no sensation nor function."  
Dean swallowed before asking.  
"what are the chances of him, you know, walking again."  
Dr. Myers sighed, scratching his head. "With the speed, Sam was hit, it's a blessing he's alive. I believe where he was hit is what saved him. Unfortunately, what saved him also almost completely severed Sam's spinal cord, making the injury about 98% complete."  
"You said no statistics, is this a yes or no, and don't give me maybes," Sam whispered quietly.  
Dr. Myers was looking very uncomfortable now, but this boy wanted hard truth, and he respected that, by God, if he were in Sam's shoes he'd want to know too."  
"No," he sighed, looking Sam straight in the eyes, you won't walk again." Dr. Myers had been doing this for over twenty years, and he swore it never got easier, definitely not now, not with this kid who sure as hell didn't deserve it.  
Sam was turning quite pale, and Dean was gripping Sam's right shoulder in support. Dean, of course, had already heard the news, but the look on Sam's face made him want to throw up. His brother was the more emotional one, but he had never seen Sam look this vulnerable and dejected, not since their dad had passed.  
Dr. Myers continued after a long pause, letting Sam take in everything he was saying.  
"The good news is that the injury was low enough that Sam will have control of most of his abdominal muscles. Once the injury begins to heal more, and with rehab, he will be able to sit up and lay down without much aid."  
Sam was turning paler, now squeezing his left hand into a fist and opening it again. As if he was releasing and re-gripping the pain that was harboring within him. He looked towards the ceiling, feeling the tears threatening to fall, but Sam refused to let them. He was going to take some fucking control. If he couldn't control his own body, he could at least control this. Sam almost forgot the Doctor was still there until he spoke again,  
"I'm going to uh give you two some time to process and talk this through. I'll be back to check on you later, and explain further treatment options, insurance, and uh rehab facilities."  
The doctor gave the boys a curt nod and walked out of the room, leaving the brothers alone. Dean just stood there silent, and Sam appreciated it because what else was there to say? Sam was fucking paralyzed a cripple. The word just didn't sound right nor real. Paralyzed, paralyzed, paralyzed, it played mockingly in his head in a haunting tune. It was as if a horror movie had come to life. He couldn't hold it in anymore, once one tear fell, more began to come, he clenched his mouth shut. He closed his eyes, just letting the tears fall in defeat, he looked up to Dean looking at him with sympathy and guilt, and he hated it. Weakness was one thing Sam was able to hide, and now it was showing emotionally and physically. And what pained him more, was that his brother, who could hide his emotions better than anyone else, covered his face in his hands, as Sam could hear his quiet and stifled sobs.

  
6 weeks later | Canopy Cove Rehabilitation Center  
Sam thought hunting was hard. The constant travel, always watching your back, stitching up injuries, but this, this was brutal, not that Sam ever pushed himself during rehab. After his spine injury, Sam didn't have much interest in anything. The guy who always tried to excel expectations had turned into a sorrowful, harrowing, and depressed stranger. Honestly, Sam was okay with that. He didn't want this to be him, he didn't want to know this person or this body. So, he went with the motions, he was just breathing, merely existing in this shitty body and this shitty world.  
Christie was his physical therapist. A small petite young Asian girl whom Dean thought "looked sexy in her scrubs". She was bending and straightening each of his legs, and placing them all too neatly and still back on the hospital-like bed That he had been sleeping in for the last month and a half. She then did the same to the other leg. Sam looked up, he always looked up, he hated to see what he had become, he hated to see the part of himself that was gone, almost non-existent. Just a reminder of the half a man he now was.  
Sam thought about how, in just the past couple of weeks, their life had changed. He had gone from saving people and hunting things, to learning how to stick a fucking catheter up his penis and scooping out his shit, in a shitty rehab center in Asheville, North Carolina. Dr. Myers recommended the best rehab center across the East Coast, and of course, Dean obliged. Whenever it came to Sam, he always obliged, and Sam hated that. He had become a liability, a hindrance to the hunt that Dean so craved. And now, while Sam was stuck here, Dean was forced to find a job. In the day time, he worked at a coffee shop called Tenth Muse, which was actually in an old abandoned storage garage and quite popular for the high school and college kids. At night he worked as a mechanic at an Auto shop called Cox Auto-services. In other words, Dean was working apple pie jobs, and that in itself showed how much their lives had turned.  
The only reason Sam cooperated to the minimum, was so he could get out. His release date was in two weeks, and he didn't want anything fucking that up. Although he would still have to come back for outpatient rehab, however, anything was better than staying in this hospital like hell hole. If it hadn't been for Buck, Sam wouldn't have known how he lasted. Buck, who also suffered from a t10 spinal cord injury, was around Sam's Age with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a robust athletic jaw. He'd been a firefighter before his injury. That all ended when a piece of shrapnel fell on him during a house fire. He had the burns to show for it, but they were hidden beneath black tribal tattoos and high collard shirts. Buck was one to break the rules, and Sam liked that, reminded him of Dean in a way. He thought of Dean and a pang of guilt jolted in his stomach. Dean was trying so hard, and Sam was honestly treating him like shit. Sam was just sick and tired of this life, and any angered built up throughout the day he threw it all on his brother. It also pissed Sam off that Dean blamed himself, and if he could, he would put his brother on his ass, knock some sense into him, but he couldn't, and that pissed him off even more.  
"Either you're plotting someone's demise, or you're wondering how you could be the top man, but I can tell you now it can be done, you just gotta know the right maneuvers."  
Buck had rolled up behind Sam catching him by surprise, Sam realized he was looking blankly ahead at the blue walls up his small hospital looking bedroom. Most patients decorated them, but Sam never did; this was not home.  
"You all packed?"  
"Yea," Buck smiled, "finally getting out of the old crap cove."  
"Tell me about it."  
"You're almost there, Sam, two weeks, push through."  
"Then what" sam sighed maneuvering himself to face Buck  
"You live," Buck replied simply  
"Oh, don't get all sappy with me."  
"I'm serious, Sam, at some point, you gotta just accept it. It doesn't matter what you are, it's what you do. You can't keep fighting yourself. It's going to tear you up inside."  
"You sound like my brother."  
"Well, your brother must be pretty damn smart."  
Sam found himself quirking a small smile. "Yea, sometimes."  
"All I know is that when I get out of here, I'm going to a bar, and I'm getting fucked up."  
"Anyway I didn't come in here to have a chick-flick moment, I came in here to ask you if you wanted one last race, ride or die."  
"Christie is going to kill us."  
"She's going to kill you, I'm leaving."  
"Alright then, but you better catch up."  
Sam began wheeling himself forward through the halls, moving his arms as fast as possible, He could feel Buck coming up behind him. Sam forgot about the sharp turn moving forward and tried to brake, but it was too late. Buck smashed into the back of them, and they both flew out of their chairs, lying face down on the ground. They could hear the commotion of the staff, and they both looked up at each other, Buck had to audacity to laugh, which Sam then joined in. He didn't know what was so funny about two cripples lying on the floor, but when Buck smiled, it was Contagious. He was the only one who could make Sam forget, and as Christie and a few other PT's rushed in, Sam ignored them, even Christie who was probably cussing them out in Chinese. Sam was just too caught up in Buck's blue eyes and a wide smile.

2 weeks later  
Dean pulled up at precisely 9:00 to pick up his brother, although he had visited Sam almost every day, he was excited and guiltily nervous about bringing his brother to their new home. He had found a nice little townhome close to downtown Asheville that was perfect for two people. He had everything modified for his little brother, and he was quite proud of the work he had accomplished. Even baby was modified. This was bittersweet, and a bit ironic considering the thing that hit his brother was now accommodating for him. Dean shivered at the thought, but both him and Sam loved the impala, and besides, it was the ghost that did the damage and Dean, who left his brother, and for that, he would never forgive himself. He pulled up to his regular spot and walked through the sliding double doors. Canopy Cove was actually atop a mountain away from the bustling city in Asheville. On the outside, it looked almost like a farm except without the animals. He entered the code to get into the building and smile at Tammy at the front desk.  
"Big day," she said with a sweet wrinkled smile, her gray hair up in a bun.  
"Yea," he said, realizing he was actually quite jittery.  
"I think Sam's with Christie, I'll let them know you're here."  
After a few moments, Tammy beckoned Dean through the sliding doors and into Sam's room.  
Sam was lying on his hospital-like bed, looking up at the ceiling in silence while Christie did each exercise on his legs. Dean could tell that Sam's legs were becoming thin, Atrophying. It made Dean Sad, but he immediately regretted staring when he saw Sam looking at him. He quickly composed himself and smiled,  
"ready to break out of here, Sammy?"  
"I was ready months ago," Sam murmured emotionlessly.   
Dean hated his brother's tone, the way it felt so dejected, lost, and broken, it was just un-Sam. Just over a month ago, it was him and his brother, traveling state after state, staying in musty hotel rooms, hunting monsters. All that just seemed so far away now, only memories, memories of when his brother could walk. Dean bit his lip but concealed it with that fake smile he so precisely used that by now faking it became easy. Smile, he would tell himself, smile because you have to, and that's your job. Decide you're fine, until the end of the week and repeat over and over, do it for sam, God do it for yourself. Because beneath that smile was chaos, confusion, and a hell lot of despair. Dean didn't know how much more he could hold behind a meaningless smile.

Sam Wheeled himself out of the building and took a breath of the fresh October air. He should have felt free, he was finally leaving, after months of pain, therapy, and more fucking pain, he was finally out. But being stuck in this chair made him feel like he was taking the whole damn building with him, and besides, would the pain ever really go away? Would the constant throbbing in his legs ever subside? He called them Phantom pains, apparently his fucked of nerves would make him feel as if his legs were on fire despite having no sensation. In other words, it was all in his head.  
Sam saw the impala and let out a sigh of relief. He knew that he should be upset, I mean this is the car that took his life from him, but she was home, and something about her made him feel somewhat normal, somewhat more than half the man he used to be. Dean looked at Sam nervously when he saw him looking at the impala.  
"I'm glad she's fixed," Sam said, and he really meant it, but it came out blunt and emotionless.  
"yea," Dean said, "Bobby helped me out, nothing we couldn't handle. She's good as new."  
Dean opened the door and pulled a lever that Sam knew hadn't been there before. Suddenly a ramp slid out, and Sam, for the first time in the last hour, looked surprised. Dean quirked a smile, but it was quick-lived, when he could have sworn there were tears in Sam's eyes, but as soon as they were there, it was diminished by a flat face.  
"This wasn't necessary."  
"I know I just thought it would be easier."  
"Easier for the invalid or easier for you?"  
"I just thought it would be easier for both of us. Besides, I think it's pretty cool."  
Sam felt slight guilt at his comment, but this was just too much. The one thing that felt like home, the one thing that gave him normality, was now morphed into another contraption to accommodate for his needs. Sam looked at Dean, nodding his head, signifying the conversation was over. He wheeled his way up into the ramp; he took the maneuver slowly because, by God, he was at least doing this on his own. Once he transferred himself, Dean took the wheelchair and placed it in the back.   
If Sam didn't like this, what was going to think of the apartment? Dean pondered to himself as he turned the keys into the ignition and glanced at his brother. Sam was looking out the window. His long hair way to grow out and unkempt. He was even beginning to grow scruff around the edges of his jawline. He must have sensed Dean stare because he looked at him, and he could have sworn he saw pleading hazel eyes asking for love and support. Still, once again, it was soon transformed into the face of a man who didn't give a fuck anymore. Any part of his 23-year-old brother, that was still a kid, had been stepped and shit on. Dean looked away and kept his eyes on the road, they drove in silence all the way back to their apartment, and whether they liked it or not, to their new home.


End file.
